A poignant scent, in fevered dreams
somewhat blue
weathered and blurred,
scrawled signs written on the water's surface
in the language of sea creatures,
intangible and incognizable
Now all a washed up riddle
laying rotting on the shoreline
Spanish question marks encapsuling each sentence
like a disgraced enigma,
a lament for a long lost love,
at the banks of Styx
And then:
Suddenly, yet shyly subliminal
like a premonition of a possible reconciliation,
a single star shines through
oscillating vibrantly in the foggy night sky,
orchestrating the wind in the weeping willows to a shushing hum,
one misty dawn, with a yearning passion,
at the lake where our first infatuation was born,
and made way for this new day's
black sunrise...
